


Chicken Needless Soup

by floof



Series: Sastiel Love Week 2020 Fics [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23560717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floof/pseuds/floof
Summary: Castiel might finally have Sam like he wants, but he's off trying to find Dean so often that Castiel feels lonely. Worse than that, useless. Sam shows him he still cares.For the prompt: Hurt/Comfort, Sastiel Love Week 2020
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester
Series: Sastiel Love Week 2020 Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691722
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: Sastiel Love Week 2020





	Chicken Needless Soup

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks to my amazing beta Star

Castiel is dying. He knows this to be true – the stolen grace burns in the veins of his vessel, spikes in agony every time he draws in formerly unneeded breath. Mostly caused by how reckless Sam's being.

His only hope is that he can make it until they find Dean. Maybe, with a little luck, Castiel will be able to help return him to normal, as well.

When he allows himself a third, selfish little wish, Castiel prays Sam won't take his death too hard. But he knows that won't happen.

It hurts, how full of loss Sam's life has been. All Castiel can do is try to ease it some before they say goodbye. Forever, this time.

This isn't like the long, agonizing year where he slowly lost his grace, becoming as close to human as possible. It's not even like the second time, when it was cut out of him and he fully understood what it meant to live as his friends do. 

There's no coming back from this. God's ignoring them even more than he did during the apocalypse. Castiel knows he won't be so kind as to bring him back one more time. 

Not after everything Castiel has done. To the world he created, and the heaven Castiel has all but ruined, several times in a row.

He lies back on the bed, one of Sam's shirts in his arms. Holding it close, he breathes in his lovers scent. It's fading, and it might be a waste of grace, but he draws on it, needing the illusion that Sam's here with him.

Sam is his only source of strength now. Maybe he's the same for Sam, but Castiel doubts it. 

More often than not, Sam is out searching without him. He wonders what injuries Sam will come home with this time.

They are fast approaching the point where Castiel won't be able to heal him. 

As if summoned by his thoughts, the door to the room swings open. Castiel sets the shirt down before Sam can see it. He sits up, but doesn't rise to his feet. Sam would only push him back into the bed, anyway.

“Hey Cas.” Sam looks tired, and Castiel stopped counting how long the hunter has been awake. 

There's no point. Sleep is but a suggestion to Sam now. Castiel wishes it could be the same for himself.

Nodding in greeting, Castiel pats the bed beside him. To his relief, Sam doesn't fight him. He starts to sit down next to Castiel, then sighs and flops out on the bed. If he had the strength, Castiel would laugh in relief.

But he's trying not to laugh lately. There isn't much humor to be found in anything, and laughter quickly turns to coughing. Stolen grace lava hot as his vessel freezes around him.

“Any luck?” He asks after some time has passed. Reaching out, he runs his hands over Sam's form. His grace searching for wounds. There's bruises a plenty, and his lover is exhausted. But nothing worse than a sprained ankle.

When Castiel places his hands on it, Sam catches them, and shakes his head.

“Don't waste your strength.” Sam sighs again, and closes his eyes as he leans against Castiel. “I'll be here a few days. Ice and rest will work just as well, and don't think I don't notice how fast you're fading.”

He wants to argue. Healing Sam is never a waste, and he doubts Sam will get much 'rest' beyond sitting while he makes calls and frantically searches the internet for any sign of Dean. But he pulls away, nodding.

“Alright.” Castiel doesn't press him on the unanswered question. If Sam hasn't offered anything, it means there's no hope to blindly cling to. Leaning forward, Castiel rests his head on Sam's shoulder and closes his eyes.

Angels don't need to sleep. And he's still enough of an angel, even with his stolen grace, but Castiel finds himself drifting off just the same. 

It should worry him. But it's so nice to be with Sam after days apart.

No dreams come.

~

Waking is a slow affair. There's soft murmurs, and hard, callused fingers brushing even softer through his vessel's hair. It's pleasant. Peaceful, even, and Castiel is tempted to drift back into sleep. However, crust is beginning to cake at the corners of his vessel's eyes, so he opens them before it can get worse.

Sam's sitting down on the bed, which barely fits them both. He's got a tray with two bowls on it. Steam wafts off the tops, smelling faintly metallic and meaty. A plate of crackers sits between the bowls. 

Castiel blinks dumbly as Sam situates him how he wants on the bed, and presses the tray into his arms. Sam takes a bowl for himself before beginning to eat.

“I know you don't need to eat-” Sam says, between bites of canned soup. “But you look down, and – I know you said the taste isn't the same as when you were human-”

Is Sam... flustered? Castiel tilts his head the slightest bit, fingers numbly clutching against the tray. It reminds him of the fare offered when he was homeless.

Looking around, Castiel wonders if the bunker will ever feel like his lost Heaven. He doubts it, but Sam's room is close enough.

“But- Well...” Oh. Sam's still talking. Castiel should probably be worried that he zoned out for a few minutes there, but that takes effort. “I... look, Cas, I care about you a lot and-”

Sam doesn't say 'love'. But it's alright. Castiel knows he feels it, just the same. If Sam has a hard time admitting that? Well, Castiel can care enough for both of them. Until his dying day.

He chooses not to think about how soon that will be.

“I... all I know to do is this.” Sam takes a broken breath, and sets down his empty bowl. He leans forward to take the spoon Castiel hasn't even attempted to lift. “So... let me do this. It... might help, even if it doesn't taste good. Right?”

Years ago, Castiel knows he would feel quiet fury at being so weak as to be spoonfed by his human lover. But now? It fills him with warmth.

Or maybe that's the soup. 

Either way, Castiel doesn't fight it, opening his mouth obediently and swallowing. He even manages to eat a few crackers when prompted.

It won't help. Not the way Sam wants it to. But the care, the love offered through action even though it's too hard to put words to it; refreshes him in ways Castiel hasn't felt in years.

When Sam makes to leave, Castiel reaches out and takes his hand.

“Stay with me?” He pleads. All he can do is plead, these days.

“I really should research a few leads. And put this in the sink.” Sam bites his lip, considering. “But... yeah, I can stay a few minutes.”

Placing the tray down, Sam lifts the blanket, eyes catching on the forgotten shirt. He lets out a snicker, but doesn't make fun of Castiel.

“But only a few minutes.” Sam leans forward to place a kiss on Castiel's forehead.

“Only a few minutes.” Castiel agrees, sighing happily.

Neither one of them says anything when Sam stays a few hours instead. He doesn't sleep, barely even drowses. It's enough.

It has to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for readin' guys


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